


For the First Time

by Ivy_Adair



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character Study, Chess, DA Fic Swap, Dorian/Inquisitor if you squint, Dragon Age Fic Swap, Firsts, Implied Relationships, M/M, Personal Growth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5940421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivy_Adair/pseuds/Ivy_Adair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short character study on Dorian as he makes a note of how much things change for him over the course of his time in the Inquisition. </p><p>Written for Dragon Age Fic Swap, with the theme of 'Firsts'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the First Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laireshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/gifts).



It happened slowly.

Dorian knew, if pressed, that there wasn’t a single point he could isolate as the catalyst for the change. He had known when he came to southern Thedas that he would be an outcast, though he hadn’t been worried. After all, he was already an outcast in Tevinter, where such things could get a man on the wrong side of an assassin’s blade. The Southerners, he had decided, couldn’t have been any worse. And, it turned out he was quite right. The citizens of Haven treated him coldly, as one would treat any unwelcome guest. Yet, none had ever confronted him directly, which he suspected had to do with him having the endorsement of the Herald of Andraste.

It was lonely, sure, but he kept himself busy enough with writing letters to Felix and reading the occasional tome salvaged from one of the cottages around Haven. The Herald visited him, took him on a few outings further into Ferelden and could always be counted on to give him a friendly chat. Even other members of the inner circle were polite enough to him. The first indication of a change, however, came in the form of the Quartermaster Threnn.

The day stuck out in his memories as being particularly warm - for the South, of course - and he had positioned himself outside in order to savor the scant warmth against his skin. He’d shut his eyes, quite oblivious to the world around him when a voice broke through his serenity.

“Master Pavus,” she began, causing Dorian to start.

He couldn’t remember a time when the stern Quartermaster had even acknowledged his existence, let alone spoken to him. “Yes?”

“I came to make sure that the extra blanket you had requested was adequate enough for you.”

He blinked. He’d found the blanket inside his cabin, folded neatly on his bed, but at the time he’d assumed it had been a gift from the Herald. “Quite satisfactory, thank you Quartermaster.”

She nodded to him and turned on her heel, leaving him to stew in his thoughts. It was such a small thing, an event that to anyone else would seem like absolutely nothing. Yet, it couldn’t have been nothing when someone like Threnn, a woman who was undoubtedly the most Fereldan he’d ever met, had been _polite_ to him. The event prompted him to pay closer attention to his surroundings and that night when he went to the Singing Maiden, he noticed that Flissa no longer kept her eyes diverted as she served him. The other patrons of the tavern still didn’t start conversations with him, but neither did they outright ignore him. While it still wasn’t the most friendly of places, Dorian found himself feeling oddly relieved at the changes.

It wasn’t until Skyhold that Dorian realized again, things had shifted. When he spent his nights in the Herald’s Rest, the serving girl made more than one unbidden trip to his table to refill his cup. Each time she’d say the beverage was compliments of another, for his bravery at Haven or rarely, to wish him well. Normal denizens, those people who had escaped Haven but held no Chantry positions would nod at him as he passed. For Threnn, Adan, Flissa and Minaeve he’d receive a small as well, after they’d each thanked him for saving their lives in the siege. He’s addressed as Master Pavus; given hands to shake which tremble only slightly in his presence.

There were those who still regarded him with disdain, of course, but their numbers were few and typically relegated only to those who wore Chantry robes or those whose armor used to bear the Blade of Mercy. Mother Giselle was a particular admirer of his, so much so that the woman of supposedly high moral fiber had gone behind his back in secret to conspire with his father to be rid of him. Surprisingly, the Chantry mother had seen fit to bring the Inquisitor into the scheme and, perhaps most surprising of all: the normally pious Inquisitor had outright refused to play along. Trevelyan had immediately come to him, showed him the letter and suggested they pay a visit to the author.

Anyone else would have complied with the conspiracy. Dorian was sure of it. He wanted to pretend that the way the Inquisitor’s eyes would fill with concern when he glanced in Dorian’s direction meant something more, but to hope was to be foolish and Dorian couldn’t afford to be a fool.

When they returned to Skyhold after the confrontation, Dorian couldn’t fight the upward tug of his lips at seeing Mother Giselle’s thinly veiled disappointment. And in the days that followed, she proved to be an easy target to fluster and Dorian would be remiss if he didn’t admit that one of his favorite hobbies was to goad the old hen. Soon after, Dorian took to sitting in the gardens at a chessboard. He played against himself, mostly recreating difficult moves and studying ways to counter them.

“You’ll be in check in one move.”

Dorian’s eyes lifted from the board and saw the Commander studying his arrangement with a furrowed brow and concentration he’d only ever seen paid to troop movements. The Commander was a former Templar, and if the rumors were true, a troubled one. He’d been in a Circle that had fallen and a Circle that had rebelled. His history combined with good-old-fashioned Fereldan tradition meant, in Dorian’s mind, that the Commander should be threatening him with the Brand, not talking about chess.

Without waiting for Dorian to respond, Cullen continued: “Move your rook up, two spaces. Your prophet should move three and your queen could check.”

“Or, I can take their queen and cripple them for the rest of the game.”

Cullen smirked, scarred lip tugging upwards. He sat at the table opposite of Dorian, taking the black pieces in hand to reset the board. As he picked up a pawn, he said, “The true trick is to avoid that particular move all together. What opening do you favor?”

“Benko.”

“Interesting,” he replied, his smirk deepening.

The two of them played four games, back to back, that day. To his great surprise, Cullen had won three out of four. Even more surprisingly was the fact that he had just spent an afternoon with a former Templar and the two of them had remained friendly. At the time, Dorian had dismissed it as a one-off thing. However, when Cullen appeared the next day and perched himself on the chair opposite of Dorian, the mage realized that he had just made his first true friend since Felix. The idea that Cullen would also be fully aware of his preferences and still seek out his company was nearly impossible for him to believe. It was a second piece of poetic irony that in a country, which should have been an enemy, he’d actually been able to finally be himself.

He registered later, as he was dancing with the Inquisitor at the Winter Palace, that for the first time in his life he could dance with a man in public and feel no shame. Then after making love to the Inquisitor for the first time, who urged Dorian to be foolish in his hopes, that he was in love for the first time and perhaps loved in return. He was trusted and such a thing was so rare that he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced it before. Perhaps he’d been loved before, but it was love with limitations and a love hampered by fear and circumstance.

And Dorian realized for the first time he was liked, befriended, trusted, loved and _free_.

**Author's Note:**

> So, if you follow me on tumblr you know I've been very sick. But, I made the commitment to this well before I got sick and I am not one to give up an obligation unless I just can't help it. I'm working on coming back into everything, just been completely exhausted. 
> 
> And as far as the chess game is concerned, I figured they don't really have Bishops in DA so I went with a prophet. Also the Benko gambit is a real thing, but definitely not something I'm smart enough to say that I fully understand what the guide I was reading was actually saying to me. 
> 
> Anyway, i hope you enjoyed. Please consider leaving me a kudos or a comment if you did. A03 is a pretty barren place, most often authors only get about 1 - 5% kudos and comments to views. It's really disheartening. Also, my work is always unbeta'd but because I'm sick I feel like i probably had some errors on it that will make me embarrassed to find when I'm well again. So, please be kind!
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, and as always you can find me on tumblr [Dear-Miss-Adair](http://dear-miss-adair.tumblr.com). Come say hi to me!


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